


A Very 2020 Shoe Christmas

by Gleennui



Series: Shoe Christmas [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: 2020, COVID-19, Gift Giving, Instacart, M/M, Potluck, Romance, but no one actually has it, shoe christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleennui/pseuds/Gleennui
Summary: Puck and Finn celebrate Shoe Christmas, 2020-style
Relationships: Finn Hudson/Noah Puckerman
Series: Shoe Christmas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1207719
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	A Very 2020 Shoe Christmas

“The Hendersons are having a party.” Finn presses his nose to the glass and squints at the white woman in leggings balancing a casserole dish on her knee while she shuts her car door. 

“Again?” Puck calls from somewhere over Finn’s left shoulder. “Are they mad they still haven’t gotten it or something?” 

Finn snorts. “You’d think?” He lifts his arm to let Puck duck under it and then pulls Puck close. Unless they put up a big open tent in the back, there’s no way it’s not a COVID cloud in there. 

“Festering disease house.” Puck nods. “Festering Disease Hendersons.” 

“I think you just picked out their holiday gift,” Finn says. “We could get that put on one of those wooden signs for their porch.” 

“D’you think they’d put the coronavirus on the sign?” Puck asks. “Like the particle with the red barbs?” 

Finn presses his mouth to the top of Puck’s head, laughing against his hair. “If they don’t, we can draw it in. It’ll be so tasteful and accurate!” 

“I’ll start practicing my calligraphy,” Puck agrees. “Oh, look at that one. What do we think is in that Crockpot?” 

Finn watches the middle-aged man in the Browns beanie and Carhartt coat juggle a mustard-colored Crockpot and six-pack of what looks like Coors. “Cocktail weenies in the grape jelly sauce, definitely.” 

“Think you got it in one.” Puck tips his head back. “Wanna make out COVID-free for a while?” 

****

“Okay, _why_ does Instacart think a substitute for Moose Tracks is green beans?” Finn turns his phone so Puck can see. 

“Passive aggressive statement about your eating habits?” Puck digs his heels into the tops of Finn’s legs. 

“Oh, excuse me, Mr. ‘I need Pringles _and_ Fritos because they’re different _kinds_ of chips.’” Finn grabs one foot around the arch and squeezes. “One more time and I tickle.” 

Puck sticks his tongue out over his phone. “They _are_ different chips and I’m not scared of you.” 

“Big words from a man who actually squealed the last time I washed his stomach in the shower.” Finn tries for the millionth time to raise one eyebrow at Puck and finally settles for narrowing his eyes.

Puck raises his own eyebrow for way longer than Finn thinks is strictly necessary. “Aaanyway,” he drawls, “We’ve got those two twenty-dollar off coupons so let’s do two carts today.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Finn shrugs, adding another package of toilet paper and considering paper towels just in case. “Check for Clorox wipes on yours, though. I always get the boring stuff.” 

“Mmmhmm,” Puck says, sounding distracted. “Day 265 of COVID and you still have Clorox wipes optimism. This is why I married you.” 

****

“I don’ care wha’ anyone says.” Finn swallows. “Ordering pizza on grocery day is the way to go.” 

“Obviously, we are men of genius and distinction, Finn.” Puck waves his folded slice around as he talks. “Genius and distinction and the owners of a _lot_ of apples.” 

Finn shrugs. “To be fair, we didn’t even need more apples, so how could we know we’d both order them?” 

Puck grins and takes a big bite of his pepper-and-onion slice. “Tell ya wha. I’ll--” he swallows and looks a little sheepish when he has to reach for his beer. “I’ll make a crisp tonight if you take the garbage to the garage.” 

Finn considers this as Puck takes another bite of the exact same size. All four garbage cans need emptying and it’s definitely starting to snow, but apple crisp sounds really really good after pizza and beer. He goes right for the eye-narrowing this time. “Yeah, okay, but if this is the garbage with the pickle juice in it, I’m _definitely_ tickling you later.” 

Puck just shoots him a grin and shrugs. “Apple crisp in an hour.”

The kitchen garbage does, in fact, have pickle juice in it, but the bag isn’t leaking at all, so Finn thinks he’ll probably go back on his threat. He gathers all the garbages and consolidates them before trudging to the back door to go out in the snow. 

He’s just put his right foot haphazardly in his shoe when he sees a flash of paper and remembers what day it is all at once. Putting a hand over his mouth to stifle the yell of surprise and not a little bit of delight, he bends down to pull a paper bag out of his left shoe. 

“You’re behind me, aren’t you?” 

“Just open it. I already preheated the oven, dingus.” 

Finn chuckles. The bag is so light he almost doesn’t feel an actual gift inside until he slides his hand to the very bottom. The light flickers on in the back hallway as he pulls the flat plastic package out and turns it over. 

“Puck!” Finn pulls the mask out of the thin plastic bag and shakes it open. He’s laughing before he even puts it on and feels Puck move close behind him to help with the second ear loop. 

“Would you believe the shopper told me it was the last ice cream cone mask?” Puck tsks. “Lemme see!” 

Finn turns, arms folded over his chest. The material is black with multi-colored “sprinkles” all over in between what are supposed to be vanilla soft serve ice cream cones. It’s absolutely ridiculous. He loves it. 

“I’m finding you a chips mask. No, _multiple_ chips masks. Just you wait.” Finn crinkles his nose inside the mask and feels it move with him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, grinning. He lifts up on his toes to kiss Finn gently through the mask, still smiling when he pulls away. “Happy 2020 Shoe Christmas, Finn.”


End file.
